Survivors
by welxican
Summary: LawrencexAdam An alternate ending to the first Saw movie.Two men who've survived Jigsaw's horrors find comfort in each other once they've escaped. Rated for later chapters, there's more to come!
1. Chapter 1 Return to Society

_The following takes place as an alternate ending to the end of the first Saw movie, after Lawrence Gordon has hit the breaking point and removed his own foot with a rusty hacksaw. This is what I've always imagined taking place instead of what actually happened. LawrencexAdam. Mature content. _

_I've been writing these for a while, but have yet to actually put one online. Reviews would be appreciated! Future chapters to be uploaded, smut yet to come._

_ I don't own the Saw franchise or any of its characters. _

Adam was crying, a hand clutching his shoulder as blood seeped slowly from the fresh bullet wound. The adrenaline from killing Zep and being electrocuted again by what he thought was a corpse on the floor was no longer coursing through his bloodstream, and he was worried about losing consciousness.

"Game over," the man had said as he slammed the door shut, leaving Adam alone in the dark, still chained in the filthy room, exactly where he had started. The key, there had been a key from the very beginning… Adam shuddered with cold, he must have lost a lot of blood because it had been warm before…

Lawrence… He must already be dead; Jigsaw must have killed him…

Adam slumped against dirty wall, he could no longer hold his hand against the wound, and it fell to the floor.

So, after all of that, he was going to die like this. He couldn't have cut his foot off in this state even if he had the saw. Adam closed his eyes. He didn't feel angry any more, he wasn't even scared. Mostly, he just didn't want to die…

When he tried to open his eyes, harsh white lights stung so badly that he had to snap them closed again. Adam frowned, he shouldn't be in pain anymore if he was dead, but he could also feel a strong ache in his shoulder He groaned and tried to move his hands. The left one was easy, but when he attempted to move the right pain shot through the right side of his body and Adam hissed with agony.

"You shouldn't do that; you'll rip your stitches." A familiar voice said softly.

Oh no, Adam knew that voice. His heart rate increased and he started to breathe quickly. He was back- he must be back in that room. It was happening again, he hadn't managed to die and he was going to have to suffer through it all over again.

"Adam! Adam, stop! You need to calm down!" The voice spoke more urgently now, getting closer, and finally, Adam felt a hand close over his own and he opened his eyes.

Silhouetted against the bright lights was the face of Dr. Lawrence Gordon leaning over Adam like an angel. It took Adam a moment to register the fact that Lawrence was wearing a hospital gown and an IV line was leading from a vein in his arm to a clear bag of fluids. Adam looked around to see a clean hospital room. Lawrence was leaning against a cane with one arm, the other was resting against Adam's bed and holding his hand.

"Lawrence," he whispered, and looked down. The end of the doctor's injured leg ended in a bandaged stump several inches off the ground. "We made it?" He asked.

The blond actually smiled. "Yeah, buddy. We made it."

They were interrupted by a nurse coming through the door and rushing over to check on Adam's vitals. Lawrence hobbled back over to his bed and started telling the nurse medical things that went over Adam's head, so he stopped paying attention and started repeating the same phrase over and over again in his head like a mantra. _I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive._

_ We're alive…_

They spent a few more days in the hospital together, talking. Lawrence explained how the police had already been en route to where they were being held captive, thanks to his wife, and the ambulance had arrived in time to stop the two from bleeding to death. Jigsaw had gotten away, of course. It wasn't going to be that easy.

Lawrence's wife and daughter came to visit him a few times. His wife was beautiful and seemed genuinely thankful that Lawrence was alive and alright, but their communications were strained and the only connection between them seemed to be the curly-haired girl always dragging a stuffed animal and chatting happily with her father.

No one came to visit Adam.

They were released on the same day, after Lawrence had been fitted with a prosthetic foot and figured how to walk around on it effectively. He stepped awkwardly and still needed the cane to support himself, but he could walk. Adam's shoulder had healed and the stitches removed.

"You know," He said to his new friend as he bent down to tie his shoes, "I'd bet you anything I'm gonna go home to find out I've been kicked out of my apartment. The rent was due last week and there's no way my landlord is gonna believe this shit…"

Lawrence was buttoning another blue dress shirt and paused. "Would you have anywhere else to go?" He seemed concerned.

"Huh? Oh, I dunno. I've got enough in the bank to get by for a while, I guess."

Lawrence reached for a pen and some paper bearing the hospital's name as letterhead. "Listen, if something like that did happen, this is my phone number and address. I'm sure Ali would understand if you of all people needed a place to sleep for a night." He ripped the paper off and handed it to Adam. "Just call me, okay?"

Adam wasn't used to such kindness. He couldn't remember anyone ever caring what happened to him. He couldn't think of anything appropriate to say so he crammed the paper in his pocket and mumbled, "Thanks."

Down in the lobby, Lawrence's beautiful, perfect-looking, but crumbling family was waiting for him with flowers to take him home. Adam ducked past while they were hugging and slipped out of the building into the street. He took back alley ways and cut through parking garages to take, not the quickest, but the least visible way back to his apartment. It was a bad habit, avoiding human contact at all cost, because he made a living sneaking around taking photos of drunken rich men screwing around on their wives. His camera was his best friend, there was nothing else in the world that he trusted.

He was surprised to find the door to his shithole apartment was still locked and everything was exactly how he left it, even down to the chair lying on its side that had been knocked over when he was kidnapped. Adam sighed and put the chair back in its place, then went to the fridge. Everything was past the expiration date, and he had to hold his nose while he poured sour milk down the drain. The only edible things left were some cans of chicken noodle soup. He didn't bother to heat it up, just wrenched it open and spooned it from the can, leaning against the counter.

Adam looked around unhappily. He didn't want this life anymore, why was he living like this? He threw the empty can into the sink and wandered into his equally empty bedroom. He fell onto the bed, letting his healing shoulder land heavily on the uncomfortable mattress, ignoring the pain. He wanted a drink, a cigarette, drugs, anything to get numb, but he was too tired to get off the bed. Instead, he drifted off to an uneasy sleep and dreamed of locked rooms and heavy chains that he would forget as soon as dawn broke.

This damn thing… Lawrence fumbled around with the hooks keeping his prosthetic leg attached until it finally fell to the wooden floor with a clunk. He picked it up and pushed it awkwardly under the corner of the bed so that no one would trip over it. Without it, he had an easier time crawling under the covers of their bed and waited for Ali to finish in the adjacent bathroom. She was taking her time brushing her teeth and combing out her blond hair. Lawrence could feel the tension between them in the air of their bed room.

When she finally did enter, she gave him an awkward smile before flipping off the light and getting in bed.

"We're really glad you're home, honey." She said and kissed him on the cheek.

Lawrence drew in his breath, "Ali?" He asked, "Will you make love with me tonight?"

She froze. "Larry, I don't know. It's been stressful, you're injured… I'm not really in the mood right now…"

"Is it my leg?"

"No!" She cried, maybe a little too quickly. "Larry, really, I- I love you. That doesn't matter to me. Listen, we can do whatever you want. Come on, I want to, I swear."

She kissed his cheek again and climbed over to straddle him. Lawrence wrapped his arms around his distant wife and pushed his hands under her night shirt. She was still wearing her bra, so he fumbled with the hook until it released. They kissed in between pulling off each other's clothes. No romance, no whispers, just animal grunts and heavy breathing as he pushed her down and entered her. Ali clung to him, kissing his shoulder and moaning, but he could feel her waiting for it to be over. She wasn't getting any pleasure out of this, and he wasn't feeling much, either. The stump of his leg was twisted in the covers and he was uncomfortably aware of what was missing.

Just before he came, the flash of someone other than his wife played before his eyes. A handsome face that never seemed to smile…

Panting, Lawrence fell to his wife's side and stared up at the blank ceiling. She rolled up against him and kissed his neck. Going through the motions. They'd made love so many times before, but never like that.

"Ali?" He whispered.

"Yes, Larry?"

"There's nothing left, is there?" He sighed. "Of us, I mean."

She was quiet for a moment, clinging a little tighter to his arm and resting her chin against his flesh. "Not really." She sounded like she didn't want to say it. If anything, he appreciated the honesty. Diana had been the only link between them for a long time.

"I'll look for a place in the morning while we… Sort everything out."

"No, it's okay. I'd like to visit my mother for a while. Is it alright if I take Diana with me? Not for long, I mean. But you should stay here. You shouldn't have to be in a new place after…" Her sentence trailed off.

"Okay, Diana would like that. I'm not the best company right now, I suppose."

Neither of them spoke for a long time. Ali was still holding onto him when she fell asleep, but she had turned away on her side by the time Lawrence drifted off.

Adam tapped his foot anxiously, waiting for the bus to come, as he'd had to sell his car. Telling Lawrence that he had money in the bank had been a lie. The only money he had was in a coffee can on the top shelf of his kitchen, and after covering his rent and enough food to get by, it was almost empty.

With the money that used to be a car, Adam bought a bus pass and was using it to stalk a new target. He hadn't told his new client that was using the bus to get around, and the goddamn bus was late. If he missed this… Adam didn't want to think what would happen if he didn't get these pictures. He needed the money so badly, just to get by. That hospital bill wasn't going to pay itself.

Adam brooded about having to pay the bill from being injured by a serial killer all the way to the coffee shop that he intended to hide in and try and get shots of some business man fooling around with a stripper. The photos, of course, had been requisitioned by said business man's pregnant wife.

Adam smoked and cleaned the lens of his camera and waited…

After he'd gotten what he needed, and his target had gotten laid and run off, Adam took another bus back to his neighborhood. The pictures were juicy and would be worth the full amount they'd discussed, but it wouldn't last long. I need help, he thought. There's no way I'm ever going to get away from this if I don't get help. He tripped up the steps in his building and swore under his breath.

Inside, something caught his eye. It was the piece of paper with Lawrence's phone number and address that he'd been given almost a month ago in the hospital. He picked up the phone and set it down several times before he'd made up his mind. The man won't want to talk to me, he thought. He doesn't want to relive that. But, then again, he didn't have to give me his number. Maybe he does want me to call. Maybe he's been waiting to hear from me…

He dialed.

It rang four times, Adam was sure he was going to get a voice mail message soon when a voice answered. "Hello?" Such a familiar, almost comforting voice.

"Lawrence?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"Um, it's Adam…" He paused. "Wanna go grab a drink or something sometime?"

Lawrence didn't answer immediately. "Not really, but if you brought some drinks over here, I'd help you finish them. Do you still have the address?"

"Yeah, yeah, I do. Will Ali care?"

"She's not here. You should really come over." Lawrence sounded as if he were doing about as well as Adam was.

"Okay, let me stop at the liquor store and I'll come over." He hung up the phone.

_End of chapter one! Hope you liked it, I promise smut is coming, but I think it needed some introduction first. Please review, I'm nearly finished with the next installment, and I'm sure I'd write so much faster with some encouraging words... _


	2. Chapter 2

By the time he was buzzed into the apartment, Adam was soaking wet. It had started to rain halfway through the walk over. He was clutching the brown paper bag under his arm so it wouldn't disintegrate in the rain.

Lawrence answered the door in black slacks and a white dress shirt hanging unbuttoned over a white tank top, he was no longer using the cane, and his stride was almost back to normal with a new, better fitting prosthetic.

"Jesus, you look like a drowned rat," Lawrence said as he opened the door. "Did you walk here?"

"Um, yeah. You know, it wasn't raining when I started. Seemed like a good idea. Exercise." Adam wished he could think up quicker excuses. His natural sarcasm didn't seem to work when he got around this man.

"Well, come in before you get pneumonia out there."

Adam shook off his sodden coat and tossed it over a chair. The paper bag of bottles made clinking noises as he set it down on the same chair and fumbled around in it. The apartment was silent, save the quiet noises of the evening news coming from the television. Most of the lights were off and it was dusty and cluttered, as though no one had bothered to clean it in a while. Lawrence had walked over to the small kitchen for glasses, so his back was turned to Adam while he looked around.

"So, where is everybody? Your wife and kid, I mean?"

"Oh. Ali and I are getting separated; she's been staying with her mother upstate. Diana is with her."

"Jesus, man, I'm sorry. After everything else…" He didn't need to explain.

Lawrence walked back in to the hallway with two clean glasses, and motioned to the sitting room where the television was playing. "It's alright. It had been a long time in coming, I think it took what happened to us for me to realize it."

Adam hitched his breath at the thought. He hadn't talked to anyone about being trapped in Jigsaw's game. He hadn't really talked to anyone all month, though. Lawrence was far too calm about the whole thing, always speaking like he was analyzing the situation.

"So, you've been sitting around here alone this whole time?"

"I did go back to work as soon as possible, but, yes. I've been alone the rest of the time. Sit down."

Adam set down a six pack of beer and a bottle of tequila on the expensive-looking coffee table and sat down the leather sofa. There were other chairs, but Lawrence sat beside him and opened a can of beer.

"Thanks for bringing drinks- I haven't been out much lately." He took a drink and dropped his prosthetic foot on the table. "This damn thing…"

"It looks good." Adam said without thinking. Lawrence raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean, you can hardly tell it's- it's not- it's not a-

"Not actually a foot? I shouldn't be complaining. Aren't we supposed to be appreciating life now or something? Wasn't the whole purpose?"

Adam snorted. "Yeah, I think we're supposed to wake up every morning, kiss the ground, hug a puppy, and sing show tunes. Oh thank you, mighty Jigsaw!"

Lawrence laughed. "Yeah, something like that. Only, I don't feel very different." Neither spoke for a moment, going through a few more beers. "So, why did you call me? It doesn't feel like you just wanted to catch up."

"Yeah… Listen, this is hard to say and I don't want to say it, but I'm not doing too well, Lawrence." Adam spoke quickly, as though it would be less humiliating the faster he said it. "I had to sell my car, that's why I walked, and I'm gonna get kicked out of my apartment soon because I'm not gonna be able to come up with the rent. I dream about that room, about you, every night and I can't take it anymore. Why am I alive? Just to keep living in this shit and hating myself? I think I'm going insane!" He ran out of breath and inhaled deeply.

He looked up. Lawrence was looking at him, unblinkingly, and Adam couldn't read the expression on his face. Without warning, Lawrence reached across and embraced the other man.

"Ah! Jesus, man, what're you-"

"Adam, oh, Adam, I know exactly what you mean. Please, you can stay here with me."

"Um, okay. But why the hugging?"

Lawrence pulled back, his hand still resting on Adam's forearm. "Sorry, I'm just so relieved to be able to speak to you. To be able to talk about this. Please stay here, I- I don't like being alone." He removed his hand, and Adam was surprised to find that he missed it.

"Well, thanks. You know what we should do now?"

"What?" Lawrence asked.

"Get fucking wasted." Adam opened the bottle of tequila and poured two generous portions into their glasses. He was smiling.

Lawrence liked it when Adam smiled. He couldn't force the thought that when he made love with Ali for the last time, it was Adam that he thought of just before he climaxed. He had trouble even admitting it to himself. Lawrence had never thought himself anything but straight and he'd married his one and only love. Not that Ali had been the only woman he'd ever been with, but she was certainly the only one he'd cared about the next morning.

As they chatted and dared each other to take more and more shots, Lawrence couldn't help but stare. Adam was smiling more now than he'd ever seen before, his laughter wasn't bitter and sarcastic anymore, but genuine.

Half the bottle was gone before Adam had fallen off the couch and Lawrence had dropped his glass, leaving pointed shards all over the floor.

"Shit!" He slurred and stumbled to the kitchen. Lawrence was sure there was a broom around here, somewhere…

"I got it!" Adam laughed, reaching for the glass.

"Don't- don't touch it. You're drunk. I- broom- somewhere…"

"Who's drunk?" Adam asked, picking up shards of glass. "I'm not- Ouch!" He'd cut himself. Lawrence stumbled out of the kitchen, leaving the upper cabinets (that he had been searching for a broom in vain) and grabbed a towel.

"Here, lemme-" He took Adam's hand and wrapped it clumsily in the towel. "Pressure." He said stupidly.

"S'okay…" Adam slurred. He looked up and caught Lawrence's eyes. "You're too nice to me."

"Naw, no, I- I like you."

Adam cocked his head a bit. "You like me?" Years of depressingly low self-esteem were starting to surface as Lawrence held the towel to his bleeding hand. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was all that they had gone through in Jigsaw's game, or maybe it was pure loneliness, but Lawrence leaned forward and kissed the other man.


End file.
